Chapter 23 - A Ghost in the Flooded Bay
*CLUNK.*
The magnetic docking collar of the *Triton-IV* engaged with the escape trunk of the *USS Defiant* with a shudder that vibrated through my bones.
"Mating seal confirmed," the automated system chimed. "Atmospheric pressure equalizing. Warning: ambient temperature in target vessel: 38 degrees Fahrenheit. Air quality: degraded."
I didn't wait for the secondary check. Grabbing my heavy waterproof diagnostic rig, I spun the manual dogging wheel of the hatch. The heavy steel wheel screamed against rust and dried grease before finally yielding. As the hatch swung downward, a blast of icy, stagnant air hit my face, reeking of burned insulation, ozone, and stagnant brine.
"Liam!" I shouted into the black cylinder of the escape ladder, swinging myself through the opening.
The interior of the *Defiant* was a graveyard of ruined technology. Red emergency battle lanterns cast flickering, demonic shadows across corridors tilted at severe angles. Freezing seawater sloshed around my knees, rising by the minute. In the distance, the horrific, metallic groan of the sub's hull echoed through the framing—the sound of steel slowly screaming under the weight of the Pacific Ocean.
"Ellie...?"
The voice was faint, raspy, barely audible over the hiss of leaking steam lines.
I scrambled down the canted companionway, kicking aside floating debris and loose maintenance manuals. At the end of the auxiliary engineering corridor, behind an emergency watertight bulkhead door that was dog-locked shut from the inside, a pale, smeared face appeared behind the small observation glass.
"Liam!" I slammed my hand against the reinforced glass.
It was my brother. His dark hair was matted with dried blood, his uniform torn and stained with hydraulic grease. His eyes were sunken, exhausted, but alive.
"Ellie... what are you doing here?" he croaked, coughing violently as toxic smoke leaked from the seams of his sealed compartment. "How did you find this ship? You're supposed to be in Norfolk! The entire sub is rigged with Halston's secondary bypass! If you open this door, the flooding in the forward battery bay will breach the bulkhead—"
"I didn't come twelve hundred feet under the sea to lose you twice, Liam!" I shouted, dropping my diagnostic rig onto a dry conduit box. "Step back from the hatch!"
"You can't open it from the outside!" Liam choked out, pressing his trembling hands against the viewport. "Halston's proprietary lockout has locked the magnetic solenoid! It requires a master engineering keycode from corporate headquarters!"
"Corporate headquarters is currently being raided by the FBI," I snarled.
May you like
I stripped off the outer thermal glove from my titanium arm. The carbon-fiber skin peeled back to expose the high-density diagnostic bus ports integrated into my forearm. I reached up toward the control panel's electronic bypass port and jammed my wrist terminal directly into the raw wiring harness.
***
